


Ephemeral

by danqueray



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Astronomer!Phil, M/M, Self-Harm, prince!Dan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-09 18:12:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8906770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danqueray/pseuds/danqueray
Summary: Ephemeral  (ɪˈfɛm(ə)r(ə)l)adj. lasting for a very short time; short-lived; transitory
In which Dan is a prince and Phil is an astronomer in the tower by the castle.





	

_There’s a boy in the tower with raven hair and eyes that sparkle like a clear ocean. He’s said to be a fairy tale, and no one knows his name or dares seek him. He loves the stars and the planets, and spins galaxies from silver threads and moonbeams on his fingertips. He’s shunned to a life, hidden amongst ivy-green leaves and violet flowers for his love, breaking all mortality. The love is for the star, for the prince who bares an ivory smile and cerise cheeks in the castle. His skin as like the soft glow of summer, voice as smooth as silken roses and in a distant time they were envied for their love. Their hearts one and their lips moulded for each other’s in cosmic stardust and galactic kisses. It’s a dangerous love, one that can overpower any other emotion and triumph the world to make them the ruler’s. It’s a love which sees the sun and moon kiss in the depths of the night, stars and galaxies dancing as black holes watch, waiting for the day their love is shared with the world._

_Phil smiles; watching the stars twinkle on moonbeam-threads and how the fairies flutter around the twisted tree in the corner, with ivory velvet leaves and glass apples and peaches holding powder for potions and spells he’s not quite mastered. Strings of emerald ivy are woven in the wooden beams above and he figures it should feel like home, the stars offering some comfort and a sense of purpose - each time picking one out of the sky and almost holding the world upon a daisy string - but they feel like nothing but empty memories and silent symphonies. Bird songs and the sound of a pencil scratching parchment fill the all but silent air and Phil has never felt so alone.  
He hums a song, tapping his feet as he picks up a jar of glittering stardust and attempts to sketch it, growing frustrated by the fourth attempt and throwing his pencil down in a huff._

::

Dan Howell gets what he wants, yet as soon as he asks for what his heart yearns for, he realises that perhaps it’s unattainable (there’s an exasperating feeling that perhaps it is, and everyone’s hiding something from him). His desire is simply for the stars to be plucked out of the sky, hung around his room and placed upon the palm of his hand. He could care less about wealth and royalty, and all childhood aspirations and dreams aside it’s nothing like it’s thought to be, unless the constant etiquette lessons and scowls from housemaids and cooks as he manages a packet of biscuits each day are anything to wish.

He rolls out of bed after a short nap - it’s late and he’s due downstairs in no later than fifteen minutes, but as far as he’s concerned the warm ivory sheets are far more inviting than stiff shirts, forced smiles and chuckles. He gets dressed, sparing a minute as he enters the ballroom faced with relieved and scowling housemaids and butlers.   
He’s learnt there’s a boy in the tower, who collects stars and galaxies until his eyes fall heavy and sleep consumes him, drawing constellations as he places the stars back in the sky. He’s learnt of his raven hair which creates black holes, and of his cerulean eyes that swirl cosmic gas into the sky in rainbows and supernova. Of his pale skin that’s illuminated by the moon and stardust, of his fingers which created each nebula in the sky. The desire for the stars to be stolen from each crevice of the universe quickly diminishes and he’s left wondering if the boy exists.  
He finds solace in a star, glowing bright when he nears and each day he talks to it, hoping someone is on the other side hearing him. He thinks it’s stupid, talking to stars and the moon, wishing for love and a normal life; after all he’s certainly special.

“Do you think someone loves me star?” Dan sits on his windowsill, fingers toying with the petals on the flowers. The star brightens in response; a simple yes, which makes Dan’s heart flutter and grows a smile upon his cherry-red lips.

::

“Can we meet the boy in the tower?” Dan asks, hands shoved in pockets as he’s sat in the corner of the ballroom, a function he’s certainly not paying attention to.

“No Daniel, I’m sorry.” Her face is soft and gentle and laced with sorrow.

“Why?”

“You just can’t.” She turns on her heel and grabs a jug of water, filling empty glasses with an unmistakable frown.

Dan’s thoughts that evening are consumed with black holes and ever-sparkling galaxies, and clouded with the most ethereal symphonies and golden nostalgia as he drifts off to sleep, and maybe - just maybe - he’ll be able to meet the boy in the tower. His dreams consist that night of blue galaxies and rose lips, Ursa Major and Leo.

::

Phil winces as he closes the door behind him with much more force than he had intended, echoing down the cobble staircase and he’s glad for once he’s alone. His fingers lambent over the brass handle as his feet carry him down the candle-lit stairs, holding a jar of almost-blue stars on a string of violet moon dust.   
The leather notebook is tucked firmly under his arm, in shades of bitter orange and chestnut brown, evidently bound for Phil’s eyes only. It’s the crunch of the amber leaves fallen on the dirt which toys a smile at his lips, eyes flicking to the moon as strings of rose and aqua and gold fall from his fingertips in illuminated sparks. Fireflies and stardust and yellow algae on the shore light the cave by the ocean, and Phil grabs a lantern by the opening, lighting it with the flick of his wrist. He hums a poem, blue fire lighting beneath his feet as he perches on a rock bejewelled with rubies and emeralds and sapphires, and transparent crystals set in the harshest of stone. Two stars shimmer in the sky, just out of reach; he feels a sense of longing, one that is obscure and almost foreign to him, yet for what he doesn’t know but yearns to find out.   
His hand scribbles cursive letters in shades of red and blue, and leaves and flowers in honeyed-yellows and greens. Yesterday seems a blur, lost memories of a time where he wasn’t bound by the hours, as if they were as abundant as the stars in the sky, the ones he picked soon replaced by a newborn glow. It’s when the sun peaks above the horizon of glistening sea-blue - corals and oranges strewn in the sky as if a child had messily scribbled a highlighter over a white sheet of paper - when Phil blows out the lantern and stomps on the fire, hand clutching the cracked notebook in one hand as the jar of stars is firmly in the other. He walks through empty fields and forests with nymphs and fairies fluttering around him and into cracks in trees and fallen logs until he reaches the tower by the castle, careful not to find the prince with the most beautiful chestnut hair and eyes which glowed amber in the light of the moon, the prince whom he’d heard about only in fairy tales.

::

Dan can’t stand the rain; the way the sun hides behind the grey clouds as if it’s too shy or just tired and the clouds are the sun’s very own blankets, then Dan supposes he can forsake a day cradling flowers and picking fallen leaves. It doesn’t help that today he doesn’t feel particularly enthused by anything, in fact it’s perhaps the worst he’s been for a long time. His thoughts are almost a black hole of never ending what if’s and he fears an existential crisis is on the horizon. It’s not to say he doesn’t get these often, for he’s smart enough for his mind to wander and conjure up theories and extremities of how the universe will inevitably end and how he’s just a mere mortal in a line of a man-made succession he never chose to be part of. He could get carried away, but instead he seeks solace in the stars and moon, and the indigo flowers blooming on his windowsill.   
He digs in his drawer, pulling out a stick of lip balm and it’s not as if he’s particularly bothered about it, yet his lips are cracked and bleeding and he just prays for a miracle in the vague taste of cherry. Dan slams the drawer shut, causing the cream chest-of-drawers to wobble on the wooden floor. He’s not particularly fond of his room, it’s too large and some may argue it’s a good thing, able to fill it with treasures personal to him, yet it’s all cream and rose and brown and he doesn’t like it. The curtains are too old and he’d much rather a string of fairy lights wrap around the pole as opposed to blue hyacinths outside his window, soaking up the rain in soft symphonies. He’d prefer a smaller room, one with stars upon strings and for galaxies to fly above his head as he studies, and although it’s perfectly within reason to ask, every answer has been a decline. The tube of lip balm gets tossed in the air, falling onto the bed behind with a soft thud before Dan follows, letting a sigh drawl from his parted lips. He’s quite positively bored, and whilst a nap wouldn’t go a miss he daren’t try to close his eyes as his thoughts are consumed with the boy in the tower. He finds it strange, is he dangerous? What is the reason behind being forbidden to see him? He toys with the idea that it’s for his own safety, instead he decides that the whole castle is against him and that tonight he’ll sneak out and discover the boy for himself. He’s not actually sure if anyone inhabits the tower but concludes it’s worth a try, after all he really doesn’t have anyone.

Night falls on the palace and Dan whispers a goodnight to the moon and stars, slipping on worn shoes before opening his door without so much of a release of breath. He’s careful for the floorboards not to creak, having snuck out plenty of times throughout his childhood to know exactly where the weak spots in the wooden floor are. The backdoor is lighter than the front, in experience quieter and the chances of being caught are relatively slim. In hindsight he should’ve slipped on a coat and it’s hardly long before his skin wears goose bumps and his teeth chatter to an absurd melody. The tower is a few minutes walk from the castle, by the forest that is believed to hold fairies and nymphs and although Dan has never seen any, he doesn’t question them. The moon is bright and Dan can’t shift the feeling of being watched, as if someone is following his every footstep as he draws closer to the stone tower laced with ivy and roses. He opens the door, tiptoeing up the stairs and he can’t help his eyes widen and the corners of his mouth twitch into a somewhat smile as the candles flicker blues and purples - almost magical. He reaches a small door, bound by vines and everlasting flowers that glow in hues of amber and rose-gold, as if they’re made of nothing but silk and glass and the slightest touch would send them shattering to the floor in sparkling dust around him. He debates whether or not to knock, but his inquisitiveness gets the better of him and he promptly turns the handle and creeps in.

::

Phil kicks a stone, hands in pockets as a star floats beside him.

“Star, why am I so lonely?” He asks, kicking the same stone and watches it stumble in front of him, leaving a trail along the dirt from where it started. The star only dims in response, a sorrowful “I don’t know” before Phil drawls out a sigh. His eyes flick to the stars, the two stars just out of reach gone and he doesn’t know when they’ll come back. He knows something’s not quite right when he hears a rustle and the sound of feet crunching against leaves, and he quickly makes his way back to the tower.

::

Dan’s in awe of the room, oak floor seemingly more beautiful than his own despite the scuffs, and a tree in the corner with glass fruit and it seems like all of Dan’s dreams have come to life. Stars are strung upon moonbeams and the stardust in jars shimmer in iridescent blues and pinks and greens above every surface and window and Dan can barely take his eyes off the beauty of the dimly lit room. A notebook catches his eye, scratched and worn in shades of copper and brown. He steps closer, blissfully unaware of the boy standing in the doorway behind him; the boy who he’d been forbidden to search for, to find. Dan ponders whether he should look, instead he lets his fingers trace the cover and read the inscription on the front, ‘Philip Lester’.

“Don’t touch that.” Dan immediately turns around, hands trembling before his eyes lay on the boy’s face. As if the stars had kissed his skin and his eyes were sapphires and aquamarines in the most beautiful of galaxies.

“I-I’m sorry.” His voice sounds foreign to his own ears, small and scratchy and it’s as if all of his persona had been stripped back, leaving Dan.

“You are?”

“Dan.”

“You need to leave, you can’t be here.” Phil steps closer, snatching the leather notebook from Dan’s grip and storms out. A piece of paper flutters from the book unbeknownst to Phil, a drawing of a cave by the ocean that Dan remembers from hushed dreams and secret whispers.

The forest is dark, the only light from the stars and the moon and if he looks closely the flutter of fairy’s wings glow in the distance.   
He expects glowing flowers and stardust sprinkled in a trail, yet the only things beneath his feet are golden and amber leaves which crunch with each step. He considers walking back, leaving the paper back in the tower with a note, but the boy’s alluring and almost an enigma, one he yearns to figure out.

The ocean isn’t far when he reaches a field, daffodils and poppies lining the path as the sea glistens in the distance, midnight blue and deep sapphires bejewelled with diamond stars.

“Hello?” Dan calls softly, stepping into the dimly lit cave. He hears a grumble and a string of “where is it?” before a lantern flickers on in shades of violet and indigo. “Are you looking for this? It fell out when you-” Dan hands the boy the drawing, eyes perhaps lingering too long on his features. Lips, eyes, cheeks; as if they’re the most beautiful things.

“Thank you.” Phil can’t help but admire the prince’s beauty.

“It’s okay, I’ll leave you to-”

“Stay.” There’s a desperate plea tugging in the depths of the word. “I need to repay you, I was rude and I’m sorry.” Dan smiles a reply. Phil gestures for Dan to sit next to him on a rock, stars strung around them.   
“You look cold.” Dan’s shivering when Phil wraps a blanket around him, resisting the urge to cup his cheek or hold his hand.

“Why did you apologise?”

“C-can I make you something?” Dan nods, raising his eyebrow as Phil reaches behind him and collects a cluster of stars, bright and glowing in soft aquas and violets and golds. He takes a silver moonbeam from a jar, threading each star onto the glittering thread before pressing the ends in a circle.

“Here.” Phil places the crown on Dan’s head, stardust falling in his curls like iridescent glitter.   
“Fit for a prince.” It allows a giggle to fall from Dan’s lips.

Phil fixes Dan’s crown as he sits back down, hand in hand and side by side.

“Are you magic?” Phil giggles at Dan’s innocence.

“Guess so.” He lets a blue flame fall from his fingertips. Dan’s eyes widen and his lips curl into a soft smile, blue in the glow and Phil just wants to press their lips together to make him feel at home. “I shouldn’t have snapped, I really am sorry.” Dan somehow feels safe with Phil, as if he’s known him his whole life.

“It’s okay, I shouldn’t have tried to find you, although I’m not too sure why everyone told me not to.” Phil giggles as Dan’s fingers flutter over his, a silent reassurance.

“You shouldn’t have come though, as much as I’ve always wanted to see you.”

“You’ve wanted to see me?” Dan’s confused, but Phil’s hand feels warm under his own and he feels safe.

“The prince I’ve always heard about? Of course I’ve wanted to meet him. He’s been like a fairy tale and when I saw you in my room I didn’t know what to do because we’re never supposed to meet.” Phil sighs, words bitter on his lips like sour lemons and he swallows each one, sticking to his throat like the bubble gum he’d chew as a child.

“Why though? Everyone says we can’t meet and it’s stupid.” He chuckles wetly, grip tightening on Phil’s. “I just want a friend.”

“I don’t know.” Phil’s voice falters to a whisper and his gaze is fixed on their hands, palms touching and fingers laced in silver and golden threads.

“Can we meet again? Please?” It’s soft and pleading and fragile and Phil’s not quite sure he can say no.

“Of course.” Their eyes meet in a smile and a squeeze of hands, soft and perfectly sweet and it’s as if they’ve known each other their whole lives, but perhaps they have.

::

Dan learns Phil’s the stars and each supernova in the universe. His eyes light up in aqua and green cosmic gas strewn in the sky and his hands are soft, so soft Dan’s quite sure Phil’s an angel, or perhaps Dan’s just never met anyone like him. They meet for three weeks, and although Dan’s sure Phil’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen he can’t help but think Phil can see past his royalty.

::

“I hate being a prince.” He sighs, tumbled from his lips in harsh crimsons and Phil aches to tell him how perfect he is.

“You shouldn’t, although I must say I’d swap your crown for my star ones.” It omits a chuckle from Dan, head resting on Phil’s shoulder. “But I don’t see why you wouldn’t like it.”

“It’s because I like the life you lead, studying stars and planets and reading under fairy lights. I can’t ever have that simplicity, and I’ll never be able to love anyone I love.”

“I’m sure you will.” Phil swallows the words, thick like molasses and sticky, as if fighting to slide down his throat.

“I’m gay, I’ll never be able to be with another boy.” I’ll never be able to be with you.

“Oh.” He twirls his thumbs, and not before long Dan’s fingers are tangled in his, hearts beating fast like pulsing lights on the Christmas tree Phil wished for as a child.

“You know why we weren’t supposed to meet, don’t you?” Phil nods, feeling his eyes brim with tears and as he blinks them away one glistens down his cheek. “Please don’t cry.” It’s soft and caring and Phil misses the laughter and he just hopes Dan will remember it when he presses their lips together in a loving kiss, or if he ever does.

“You see those stars?” He points to two stars, two which Dan doesn’t think he’s ever noticed together before. “Touch them.” Dan reaches up, fingertips not quite reaching. “Hold my hand and try.” Their fingers lace and it’s as if a circuit has completed, Dan reaching up and holding both stars.   
“This one, it’s dimmer when you hold it isn’t it?” Phil takes one star, both dimming as they separate. “Switch them.” Dan smiles when he takes the star Phil’s holding, watching it instantly glow in the palm of his hand.

“Wow,” His eyes never leave the star, but as Phil hands him the other, they glow brighter and brighter until Dan’s almost blinded by the light they omit.

“What do you feel?” Phil’s almost scared to ask the question. “Truthfully.”

“Love.” Dan can’t bring himself to look at Phil, voice small and barely above a whisper.

“This star,” Phil takes one. They both dims slightly, but certainly not as much as before. He points to the one in Dan’s palm, iridescent blue shimmering bright. “Is my star, and when it’s near you it glows. The one I’m holding is your star, and the same thing happens. When the stars are apart they dim to almost non-existence, but when they’re together they glow with such a light which is blinding.”

“Star?” Dan smiles as one brightens. He holds out his hand and watches it float in his palm.   
“You were right.”

“I wondered why I could never catch these stars, until I realised yours is the one that keeps me company so I’m less lonely.”

“What do you mean?” Dan asks, eyes searching Phil’s. He’s lost in azure galaxies, gold and emerald constellations.

“You’re going to laugh.” Phil chuckles wetly, almost afraid. Dan just rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “Before we became mortal we were the brightest stars in the sky, which is why we can’t ever meet. All the other’s envied us because of-” He swallows, eyes falling the star in his hand.

“Because of?” Phil thinks the words in his head sound too cheesy, and perhaps actions say more than words ever could. His eyes flick from Dan’s eyes and lips, silent permission which is granted as Dan closes his eyes and leans in. Phil’s lips are feather-light on Dan’s and his hand cups his cheek.   
“We were in love?” Dan asks breathlessly, and Phil has almost forgotten his words. He nods before Dan leans in and presses his lips to his. It feels right - perfect. As if their lips were made for each other and they’re such contrasts but equally the same. Dan knows it’s right, and as Phil’s lips touch his he remembers the stars and crimson blushes and it feels like coming home.

“I don’t want us to separate again, I need you.” Phil’s voice is hoarse and raspy and raw.

“How can we not though?”

“Just living as mortals, ephemeral; we’ll meet when our souls touch the highest cloud and there your star will find mine.” Phil raises his hand to Dan’s cheek, thumb gliding over his soft skin illuminated by the glow of the moon and the stars surrounding them.

“Do you promise?” The prince’s eyes dip to his lips and soon their mouths collide, Phil’s teeth lightly clasping and nipping at Dan’s bottom lip, a gasp escaping Dan’s parted lips.

“I promise, because out of all the other stars in the sky and across the Milky Way, you’re mine and I’m yours, and I’ll never let our hearts be lost again.” Phil pulls Dan into his lap, lips brushing with each hushed syllable before Dan’s fingers tangle in Phil’s hair and they become lost once more. It’s nothing but soft kisses, tongues occasionally breaking teeth barriers to dance and glide and they want to spend each waking hour like this, together.

“Why can’t we be together?” Dan’s voice is small and breaks Phil’s heart.

“We just can’t, it’s- it’s hard to explain.” His lips pepper kisses on his nose and to his cheeks.   
“I heard you every night, wishing for strings of stars to hold.” Phil smiles, tucking a stand of hair behind Dan’s ear. “It’s not impossible you know.” Dan smiles as Phil’s fingers feather under his chin, lips clasping in a stolen kiss.

“Are we princes in the stars?” Phil shakes his head as Dan rests his head on his shoulder.

“We’re kings, gods even. Fairy tales which no other wants to believe in.” Phil laces their hands together, the stars in front of them.

“Where will our stars go?” Dan mumbles.

“In here.” Phil takes Dan’s other hand and presses a kiss to his wrist. “Because half of your star is already in you, you are your star. The other part is my star, which if you press it here,” The pads of his fingers are soft against Dan’s wrist. “Will become one and we’ll never get lost.”

Dan reaches for Phil’s star - his star, and presses it to his wrist. Within an instant it’s gone, and Phil tells him stardust flows in his blood. Phil mirrors Dan’s actions, and soon Dan’s laying on the rock as Phil’s on top of him and they never want to break their kisses.

“Can’t you stay with me? No one will have to know.” Dan plays with the hem of his shirt.

“I-I can’t.”

“Please Phil, if they find out we can run away, live together and-” He’s cut off by Phil’s lips on his, soft and slow and soon his tongue slips in.

“I don’t want you to get hurt.” It’s a breathless whisper against his lips.

“I won’t, I have you and I promise I’ll keep you safe.”

::

“This is nice.” Their locked hands swing as they walk through the forest, fairies and nymphs fluttering around them.

“I love you my prince.” Phil mumbles, almost so quiet it gets lost in the fleeting wind.

“I love you too my star.”

Phil leads him to the ocean, slipping off his shoes and places his jacket on a rock.

“Swim with me?” He giggles, helping Dan with his jumper and shirt and holds him close as he shivers.

“God you’re so warm.” Their lips are soft as Phil’s arms are around his waist, Dan’s around his neck and it feels like the most perfect dream. “Get these off.” Dan tugs at Phil’s shirt and the waistband of his jeans, pulling away before taking his own off and places it next to his shirt and jacket. Their hands are laced as Phil leads him into the water, stardust in silver clusters lighting the sea and despite the chilly weather it’s the warmest Dan’s ever been. He’s always found it cheesy, kissing in the water with the one you love but it all feels perfect and he couldn’t care less whether it looks like a cliché movie, or a teenage fantasy, all he cares about is Phil’s lips on his and his fingers tracing the curve of his hips. His touch is feather-light and Dan’s never felt so alive, each nebula and supernova pressed on his clavicle and chest in tender kisses and grazes of teeth.

“D-don’t let these show.” His voice is weak and falls to a whimper as Phil’s fingers bruise his hips and his lips kiss his neck.

“I won’t I promise.” His words are sincere, fingers gliding over each mark left before their lips glide and it’s as if they’re on top of the world, love unstoppable and neither can quite know why it should be hidden.

::

“Daniel?” He’s rubbing his eyes as a maid walks in, face flushed as voice whispered.   
“Why were you by the ocean last night? Who were you with?” His eyes fall to his thumbs, twirling in a steady rhythm.

“N-no one, why?”

“Don’t lie to me. You know I’d never tell anyone.” Dan nods, knowing any secret is safe with Alice. He was fourteen when she held him in her arms as he told her he was gay, scared and broken and impossibly alone.

“I was with Phil, I-I love him.” He daren’t look at her as tears prick his eyes and he doesn’t like how he always feels vulnerable around her, as if his walls break and he’s truly Dan.

“Oh Dan,” She sits beside him, hand rubbing circles on his back as he cries. Phil watches from the window in his tower, heart shattering into pieces he can’t possibly count. There’s one less glass fruit on the tree that night, smashed on the floor in peach and amber shards.

“Don’t be mad Phil, please.” And of course he’s not, he’s relieved and hopes that perhaps they’ll be able to be together, one day. “She doesn’t hate you, or me, she just wants us to be safe.” Dan chokes between sobs, Phil’s lips fluttering over his cheeks and the corner of his lips.

::

Dan’s in Phil’s arms all day, his lips kissing the bruises that litter his arms and thighs.

“Please don’t do this to yourself.” Phil’s voice is broken and it’s perhaps the first time Dan’s ever seen him so vulnerable. “Please please please my angel.” His sobs are silent and match Dan’s fingers gripping his t-shirt in balled fists, knuckles white and crimson lace.

“I-I’m sorry.” Dan’s cracked whimpers and hiccups muffle his words and all he wants to do is run away with Phil and never turn back.

“Don’t be, just promise me you’ll never hurt yourself again. You know you’re worth the world and if I could hand it to you I would.” Phil reminds Dan of inverted coffee and peppermint kisses, and he knows their moments are scarce.

“Run away with me.”

“Dan, you can’t.”

“Please Phil.” His name doesn’t sit quite right pleading on his lips.

“I’m sorry.” Phil shakes his head and holds Dan’s hand a little tighter, lips soft against his hair. “You can’t get hurt.” And Dan supposes he’s right, he can only cover for so long before he’ll be found and he can’t bear to think what would happen to Phil, and how their lives would be torn apart. “I’ll write to you every day, send you a star so you can thread them on string and hang them around your room, as if I’m always with you.”

“You won’t be though, you’ll be far away and I won’t be able to kiss you or hold your hand or tell you how much I love you.” Tears streak his face like the rain on windowpanes, droplets racing in cool trails.

“It’s all we can do my love.”

“I love you.” Dan fears it’s the last time he’ll ever get to utter the words.

“I love you too.”

::

_My star,_

_I love you, and I’m not sure if these words are enough but they’ll have to suffice. So long have I missed you, my lips on yours and fingers tangled in your hair. I’ve missed your laugh, your smile and when I see you in the gardens I want to run and hold you once more. I find myself making star crowns only to have no one to hold but I hope you like this one I made you. I found the brightest star last night and it made me think of you, it made me think of your smile and your skin beneath my fingers and I love you so much. I made this crown for you, wear it and think of our fingers intertwined and our heads rested on each other’s chests and shoulders. I love you Dan, please don’t ever forget that._

_Love forever,_

_Phil x_

Dan can’t help the tears that fall, smudging the sapphire ink as his fingers fumble with the jar. The crown safely inside and he places it atop his hair, stars warm beneath his fingertips. The star glowing bright in the jar, for Dan to thread on silver strings to join the ones hung around the frame of his bed. No one dares ask where he gets them from, nor do they question the galaxies above his head as he scrawls a note back.

My dearest Phil,

I think of you each day, every second my thoughts are consumed by you and only you. I find myself looking at the stars, wondering if you’re staring at them too. The crown is wonderful, and sits on my head as I write this. I’m not sure if I’ll ever take it off, and it’s funny, no one seems to question when I look at the tower, hoping to see your face in the window. I swear I used to see your black hair, peeking through the crevices and cracks but now you seem long gone. My love, please know you’re my whole world, I love you eternally and it’ll never change. We’ll meet again, perhaps when I’m king or when we return to the stars. I want to see you, sneak out but the guards by my door hear my attempts each night and I’m not sure how much more tears I can shed for you.

I love you Phil, and I always will.

Dan x

::

Dan’s lost his mind, three swigs of the vodka he stole from the cabinet, hidden in his drawer. He hasn’t heard from Phil for two weeks and his hands shake and he’s constantly wondering what if. What if he never saw him? Never kissed his lips like they were the air he breathes and it’s all he has left? What if he never said I love you? Or bit stars on his skin under the silver glow of the moon? Would he see the boy staring at the stars? Threading them on moonbeam-yarn? Why hasn’t he replied? Fuck- why hasn’t Phil replied?

He hasn’t slept for four nights. Every attempt is met with the fate of shaky breaths and muffled sobs and Dan’s heard death comes on the seventh, and perhaps he can hold out until then.

“Where’s Phil?” His eyes are smudged with mauve and laces with crimson ivy, like the thorns that peak the cracks of Phil’s tower.

“He- He’s not here Daniel.” Alice fights back a hiccup, strangled in her throat and she can’t tell him, not like this. But does she have a choice?

“Where is he?”

“He killed himself.” The words Dan feared, the words Dan hoped would never tumble from her rose lips send him in cold shivers and violent sobs and he doesn’t care four maids rush around him, asking what’s wrong. His eyes are closed and focussed on Phil, because why didn’t she tell him?

He’s gone and Dan doesn’t think he can hold out much longer, he hasn’t eaten and he can’t stop crying because the one he loved is gone forever. The last letter he wrote, clasped in his palm and the words “I love you” in lace in his thoughts and it’s suffocating. The petals beneath his fingers fall to the floor like each word left unsaid. It’s dark and the cave doesn’t feel right without Phil. The blue and violet flames glow no more, and the kisses and desperate whimpers that once lined the walls are crumbled into the ocean, washed away like Phil. The melody of the waves are less than calming and if Dan could, he’d stop each ripple with the shrill of his shrieks and muffled cries for his star. The spark that once ignited him died with Phil, and he’s never liked being a prince, but being Phil’s prince was all he ever wanted.

::

Dan learns that bodies are ephemeral. Souls are forever immortal, and as his star touches the sky every stolen glance and hidden kiss turns to dust, leaving behind every unsaid word and whispered touch in threads of glistening reds and blues.

There’s a star in the sky that glistens blue and his heart burns red. He’s said to be a fairy tale, and no one knows his name or dares seek him except one. His love’s for the star, bearing a crimson flame and cerulean in his heart, purples strewn in the sky as their lips meet and hands brush. He’s like the soft glow of summer, voice as smooth as silken roses and in a distant time they were condemned for their love. Their hearts one and their lips moulded for each other’s in cosmic stardust and galactic kisses. It’s a love which sees the sun and moon kiss in the depths of the night, stars and galaxies dancing as black holes watch, not waiting for the day their love is shared with the world. It’s now a love that is shown with the cosmos, each galaxy shining bright as smiles grace their faces and it’s quite possibly the most beautiful love.

A mother tells the tale of a prince and a boy who loves the stars, meeting in the depths of the night under silver strings and the pale glow of the moon. The boy asks why they can’t ever meet, and his mother replies with “the world is jealous my sweet, for the star watches as he spins galaxies on his fingertips from meteors and almost-glittering stardust, humming ruby melodies as azure smoke spirals in his eyes and in his thoughts. It’s a love the universe envies but they’re with the stars, and their love is immortal.”  
She kisses his forehead before turning the lights off, and the boy wonders if he’ll ever find a love like the two stars.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry this is so sad!


End file.
